Lullaby
by XKillMeNowX
Summary: Damon is left with a new born baby after his girlfriend, Rose, dies. How will he cope with being a father? Can he be saved from disaster? RATED T


Three hours.

That's how long he'd been sitting on a hard, cold plastic chair in the hospital corridor. Waiting. He stared down at the pale green linoleum that covered the floor. His head snapped up when he heard another agonised scream. The squeaking of shoes caused his head to turn to the right where he saw a young nurse running down the corridor. He jumped up from his seat when he saw her turning to the door in front of him, pushing it open.

"Excuse…" he started, but it useless. The door was slammed in his face.

He threw himself back onto the chair and leaned back, his head against the wall.

Two Hours Later.

It was too quiet. After listening to screams, groans and cries for six hours, it was suddenly eerily quiet.

He stood up and walked towards the door, listening for any sounds. All he heard were hushed voices. What was going on?

He walked up and down the corridor for what seemed like days. Anyone that came out of the room didn't acknowledge him and scurried past so quickly, he didn't even get to ask them what was happening.

Suddenly the door opened again and a tall man with light brown hair walked out. His face was drawn and he looked…

The man cleared his throat. "Mr Salvatore."

Damon walked over to him. "Yes. What's going on?"

"Please take a seat." The man said, gesturing towards the plastic seat.

Damon sat, noticing the man was stayed standing.

"I'm Doctor Saltzman. I was in charge of the delivery." He explained. "I'm afraid I have some… _bad_ news."

Damon felt the blood drain from his face. "What? What happened?"

"Rose didn't make it through labour."

Damon froze, not understanding what was going on.

"What?" he whispered.

"Well, Rose wasn't strong enough. She'd already lost a lot of blood and…" the doctor stopped talking, taking in the young man before him. "We tried everything."

Damon swallowed and just nodded. He heard the door opening but didn't look up, just kept staring at nothing.

"Here you go."

He looked up and had to hold back a cry when he saw the small blue bundle being held towards him. He sat up straight and let a young blond nurse place the warm bundle into his arms.

"It's a boy." The girl smiled.

Damon pulled back the piece of blanket that was covering the face of his son and felt tears fall down his cheeks when he saw him. He was tiny with black hair, just like Damon. His tiny hand clenched Damon's finger unconsciously.

"Congratulations." Dr Saltzman said.

"Can I… um… Can I take him home?" Damon asked.

"Of course."

Damon stood in the doorway of the nursery, staring at his sleeping son. He was now four days old, but Damon still couldn't believe that he was his and also that his fiancée-to-be was dead.

The engagement ring sat in its black box in Damon's bedside table, gathering dust. He'd only bought it two weeks ago and was going to ask Rose to marry him when she came home from the hospital. '_How can she be gone?_' He asked himself every day. It didn't seem right to be living in the big old boarding house without her.

Her funeral had been yesterday. He remembered arriving at the church and everyone murmuring condolences to him. Sobs and wails filled the church but Damon didn't have the energy to cry, but his eyes were dull and never seemed to look at anything. Even when he was talking to someone, his eyes made him look as if he was somewhere else, or as if he wasn't in his body.

He'd come straight home afterwards, finding his son still asleep in the Moses basket on the couch, where he had left him three hours ago. He didn't understand himself why he had left him there but the truth was, he didn't know what else to do.

Loud cries pulled Damon from his thoughts and he walked over to the cot, leaning down to pick up the baby. He laid his head softly on his shoulder and walked around the small room, trying desperately to cease his cries.

He stood with him for two hours, staring out the window into the night. At three in the morning he put him back into the cot and made his way across the hall to his own room. As he stared up at the ceiling he suddenly realised that him must think of a name. He and Rose had never talked about names at all, just referring to the bump as it.

After much internal debating and thinking, he came up with one, simple name; Alex.

"Please, just stop crying!" Damon begged the small, red-faced bundle in his arms.

For nearly an hour and a half, he'd been walking around the house holding Alex in his arms. It was eight o' clock in the morning and Damon was dressed in only a pair of dark grey sweat pants, hanging low on his hips.

"What do you want?" he whispered into his son's hair.

How he wished he knew the answer. He'd only been a father for five days so he didn't know what to do. He'd checked the diaper, tried to feed him and even checked if he was teething, knowing that it was way too early for that, but still, Alex kept crying.

Damon sat down on the couch, enjoying the feel of the soft fabric against his bare back. He shifted Alex so that he was lying in his arms with his head in the crook of his elbow. Unbelievably, after about ten minutes, the cries stopped and Alex drifted back to sleep.

Damon leaned his head back on cushion, sighing. He knew he was going to have to get help because he wasn't going to be able to raise a baby all on his own. But the thought of some other person raising his child sickened him. If only he could get someone that would be able to help him.

He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose and breathed deeply. He opened his eyes and looked around the parlour.

That's when he saw the card.


End file.
